


Moon-Eyed

by ABrighterDarkness



Series: Managing Trouble [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Bucky Barnes Feels, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Drunk Dialing, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28353105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness
Summary: Bucky wondered if he might have been a little too silent on that front considering that there were enough empty bottles split between them on the coffee table that Becca was just slightly more invasive about her questions and curiosities.  She was watching him curiously and Bucky knew it was because he was probably smiling a little bit like a loon.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Managing Trouble [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076381
Comments: 2
Kudos: 72
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020





	Moon-Eyed

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky Barnes Bingo  
> Link:  
> Title: Moon-Eyed  
> Collaborator(s): ABrighterDarkness  
> Square (letter, number, and prompt): U3 - Drunk Dial  
> Pairing/Main Ship: Steve/Bucky  
> Rating (Gen, Teen, Mature, Explicit): T  
> Warnings/Triggers: N/A  
> Summary:  
> Bucky wondered if he might have been a little too silent on that front considering that there were enough empty bottles split between them on the coffee table that Becca was just slightly more invasive about her questions and curiosities. She was watching him curiously and Bucky knew it was because he was probably smiling a little bit like a loon.

Neither Bucky nor Becca really had the motivation to try to cook even the most basic of meals, each for their own reasons. Stressed and drained as they both were from their respective responsibilities, it was a pizza and beer night. Bucky wasn’t about to complain. Half the benefit of his daily workout routine was being able to indulge in the less-than-healthy foods on occasions.

Becca, he knew, was wound up tight over the final weeks of her classes. Were he anyone but himself, Bucky was well aware that he probably wouldn’t have seen the hide or hair of his sister until it was all said and done. She still made the expected calls to their parents but even visits home were on hold for the time being. That was just one of the reasons that Bucky had so easily agreed to go to her apartment rather than having Becca over to his own. 

Though, if he was really honest, it had more to do with the break-in at his apartment just a few short weeks ago and the nightmare that circulated around it. Bucky had known that he was going to have one hell of a time getting back to the point where he felt safe and comfortable in his own home again from the moment that he had received the security alert that his place had been broken into. He had expected the return of his anxious paranoia when it settled in. Didn’t make it any easier to have to compulsively check and clear every room each and every time he came home. 

Bucky had been insanely grateful that she had been busy enough, balancing work and school over the last few weeks that those particular bruises had healed before he’d visited with her face to face. She’d worried enough about him over the years. She didn’t need to worry about that too.

There was no way he would feel comfortable bringing Becca back over any time soon. He could handle being a target, could handle being a target by association. He would not, and could not, handle even the idea of putting the same on Becca. 

Bucky made a mental note to make a call to his therapist’s office come Monday. He’d been there often enough to recognize the earmarks of the precarious ledge between staying level and falling into the pit again. He wasn’t going to backslide without a fight.

Not that Becca knew anything about any of that. Not this time, at least. Or his involvement in any of the disaster that the news had consistently broadcast. She wouldn’t know that he’d left an hour earlier than he usually would have to get to her place. He wasn’t about to tell her that he’d had to spend that extra time making sure that he wasn’t followed. Or that he was clinging tight to the old routine in hopes that it would help him keep sane this time too.

If he started backsliding now, she wouldn’t know the cause. 

All Becca knew--or any of his family, for that matter--was that Bucky was still managing Steve Rogers’ PR and had handled that aspect of the incident in D.C. Well. And there was that whole conversation before everything went to hell. She knew that too, obviously. Considering that she was, once again, the one that had to basically talk Bucky down from his anxious confusion about what he was feeling. He was still embarrassed about that. Needing Becca to explain something to him that he wondered if shouldn’t have been far more obvious than what he made it out to be. 

Surely most people didn’t need their sisters to translate their own thoughts and feelings. He didn’t think that most people had to have their sisters point out that they were very obviously head over heels for someone. Bucky was grateful for the patience, there was no questioning that but he did wish that he hadn’t made it necessary.

In the weeks since Insight, though, Steve had stuck to the patient understanding that he’d shown from the start. Didn’t rush or push like others might have. He seemed to get that it was all unfamiliar territory for Bucky and didn’t seem inclined to push for more any sooner than Bucky was inclined to give it. 

Even as potentially suggestive as their conversation in Steve’s hospital room might have sounded, they hadn’t done much more than talk the same as they always had those three days laying low in Silver Spring. Though they had resettled into an existence where casual touch and affection was more welcome. 

And the kissing. Bucky added mentally with a small grin. Lots and lots of kissing. He had never particularly thought himself to be addictively inclined, but he was fairly positive that he’d found the one thing that might stand a chance at changing that. Kissing Steve might very well be higher on his list than even his morning routine.

Bucky wondered if he might have been a little too silent on that front considering that there were enough empty bottles split between them on the coffee table that Becca was just  _ slightly _ more invasive about her questions and curiosities. She was watching him curiously and Bucky knew it was because he was probably smiling a little bit like a loon.

“You haven’t mentioned Steve once tonight,” she pointed out, leaning into the corner of the couch, stretched out with her feet in Bucky’s lap. 

“Should I have?” Bucky asked blankly. He really did know better. That was as good as a challenge to Becca. 

Becca hummed and shrugged. “I still haven’t been able to catch lunch with you guys. I’m out of the loop.”

Bucky tried not to wince but knew that he failed when her brow arched questioningly. “We’ve not done a whole lot of the lunches lately,” he admitted. “Even when we’ve had lunch together it’s been working lunches. We’ve both been kind of busy.” 

Busy with the fall out of Insight and Romanov’s SHIELD data dump. Busy ensuring the world that Steve was very much not dead. Busy with Tony’s well-meaning invasiveness. Busy with the horrifying information on the little thumb drive that Natasha had pressed into Bucky’s hand the day after.

Busy learning this new avenue of their slowly developing relationship.

And so, so busy sneaking touches and kisses when they weren’t busy with everything else. 

When he let his mind wander freely, Bucky could still feel the impression of big hands gripping tight at his hips, keeping him in place and held close. The kiss that started off sweet and affectionate only to spiral into well past heated in a matter of minutes. Almost all-consuming until duty and responsibilities elbowed their way back in, demanding one or both of their attentions.

Probably not thoughts he ought to be having with his sister seated right beside him, Bucky though, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Bucky,” Becca said suddenly.

“Becca,” he responded promptly out of long ingrained habit.

“Let me see your phone,” she said insistently, stretching her hand out expectantly.

Bucky frowned slightly in confusion, his mind automatically jumping between their previous conversation where she had similarly requested his tablet and the various conversations he’d had earlier in the day that circulated heavily around Insight and the fallout. 

There was so much information on that phone now. More to hide and protect than there was even a few weeks ago. More information to protect her from, if nothing else. Had she asked for his phone rather than his tablet back at his apartment that weekend, Bucky would have handed over one or the other without a second thought.

But, for the first time since he and Becca’s relationship had recovered, Bucky hesitated. He wanted to decline and pass it off. But it came too close to withdrawing trust without being able to honestly give her a reason why. That was just as unacceptable as dumping the details of his final deployment and Insight on her without warning. The realization made his frown deepen and he promptly snatched his phone off of the side table and unlocked it. 

After a quick check that the important conversations were closed, he passed it over to his sister. Becca smiled sweetly and withdrew her hand, pulling the phone closer to her face. The sweet smile, which really should have been Bucky’s first indication that not all was what it seemed, turned into a drunkenly focused scowl as she quickly thumbed through his phone.

And then she was putting his phone to her ear, the faint sound of ringing coming from the small speaker.

Bucky eyed her warily. 

What? Who the hell was she trying to call at nearly midnight? 

He could hear the ringing cut off as the call connected on the other end and Becca shot  him a lazy smirk. Bucky found himself utterly incapable of doing anything but stare, wide-eyed, as a bolt of sheer panic rushed through him. All because of the familiar low, deep voice he heard faintly through the phone pressed to his sister’s ear.

She called  _ Steve? _ Why the hell did she call Steve?

Bucky was nearly positive that no good would come from this. 

Maybe they ought to have stuck to wine. Wine at least tended to make Becca more relaxed and sleepy than anything. It was so much easier to blame this call on the few-too-many beers they’d had than to acknowledge his current discomfort further.

“Becca,” he groaned, voice coming in a low hiss. “What are you doing? You can’t just--”

“Hi Steve. Becca Barnes,” she chirped into the phone, smirking challengingly at Bucky. “My brother has been making pitiful moon eyes since he got here. I’m going to  _ assume _ that’s your doing since I have a cruel brother who’s shared nothing with his favorite sister. So I’ll leave you to fix it.”

Bucky didn’t know if there was enough break in her rambling pseudo-introduction for Steve to have gotten even a word in but he didn’t think so. Regardless, his phone was shoved back into his hands, the call still connected with Steve’s name standing out on the screen. He shot Becca an exasperated glare--to which she only smirked unrepentantly--and brought the phone to his ear. 

“You there, Buck?” Steve asked, tone very obviously amused.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, running a hand over his face and trying to tamp down on the pleasant rush rolling through him. Becca’s smirk let him know just how badly he failed at that though. She patted his shoulder and playfully ruffled his hair, dodging his protesting swipes, before gathering the empty bottles and pizza boxes and disappearing into the kitchen. “Yeah I’m here. Sorry. And sorry for, you know, this. Midnight call. And everything.”

“I don’t mind,” Steve responded easily. There was a moment’s pause and then Steve spoke again, his own smirk clear and evident in his voice even through the phone’s speaker. “Moon-eyes, huh?”

Bucky felt his ears warm but pointedly ignored it. “No,” he denied and then, knowing his smile tells through his voice. “Was just thinking.”

“Thinking thoughts that your sister describes as moon-eyed, huh?” Steve teased. “What kind of thoughts were you thinking to get that label?”

“Moon-eyed thoughts?” Bucky offered, grinning automatically when it drew a laugh that was as soft and fond as the sensation washing over Bucky at the sound of it.

Steve sighed quietly on the other end of the line and Bucky could hear background shuffling. He couldn’t help but wonder what Steve was doing, what he’d been doing when Becca’s call had interrupted. 

“Miss you too, Buck,” Steve said, breaking Bucky out of his wandering thoughts. “Everything’s okay though? With you and Becca?”

“What? Yeah, we’re fine,” Bucky answered with a confused frown.

“Good,” Steve replied. “Wasn’t sure what to expect. You don’t usually call this late.”

It was Bucky’s turn to sigh, though his was more regretful than anything else. “No, we’re okay. Sorry for worrying you,” he rushed to reassure. “We just-ah-take out night. Pizza and beers. And my mind wandered off on me and Becca is feeling pleasant enough to take over for me.”

“And you’re feeling just pleasant enough, too, I’m guessing?” Steve asked knowingly.

“Maybe,” Bucky hedged in a roundabout agreement.

Steve hummed a thoughtful chuckle. “You’re staying there tonight?” he asked.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Bucky admitted. “But it’s late enough now that I probably will.”

“Good,” Steve said softly. “And tomorrow?”

“I’m free,” Bucky responded immediately. He didn’t bother even trying to temper the hopefulness in his tone.

“Lunch?” Steve suggested.

“Head to mine,” Bucky offered. “I’ll throw something together.” He paused for a moment before charging forward with a grin. “Dinner, too. We’ll tag team it.”

“Sounds good,” Steve answered quietly. “I’ll bring the coffee.”

“For lunch?” Bucky asked with a smirk.

“You say that like you don’t go through coffee like most people do water on a regular basis. You’re almost as bad as Tony when it comes to coffee,” Steve retorted, grin obvious in his tone again. 

“Caffeine is a necessity for functioning,” Bucky defended lightly.

“How do you even manage to sleep with all that caffeine, though?” Steve asked with a laugh.

Movement out of the corner of his eye reminded Bucky that it probably wasn’t wise to answer that question the way that he  _ wanted _ to answer it. He loved his sister dearly but he did not need her playing witness to more than she already had. 

So he bit back the urge to tell Steve to figure that out himself and, instead, went the safer route. “Just the same as anyone else I suppose.”

Bucky must have paused, hesitated before answering just enough that Steve had been able to catch on. Follow the line of thought and catch the delayed course correction. He chuckled again, though this time a little lower in tone in a way that circled Bucky’s thoughts back around to the firm grip on his hips. He genuinely didn’t know why he fixated on that particular touch other than the simple fact that he  _ loved _ that tight, almost possessive hold. Might very well be up there alongside the kissing, if he was honest.

“Fair enough,” Steve said, obviously taking pity on him and following Bucky’s lead on the change of direction. “I’ll bring the coffee, you got lunch. And we’ll do dinner. Sounds like you’ve got my whole day claimed up.”

“Complaining?” Bucky teased.

“Not even a little bit,” Steve promised promptly. “Just means I’ve got yours claimed up too. Get some sleep and tell your sister I said thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks for what?”

“I got to talk to you today, now, didn’t I?” Steve mused. “Probably would have had to wait to pester you until morning otherwise.”

Bucky laughed and nodded. “Right. I’ll let her know,” he agreed. “And I’ll see you in the morning. Aim for ‘round nine?”

“It’s a date,” Steve agreed. And then, because Steve Rogers was nothing if not an asshole, maybe especially to those he liked, he continued on to tease. “Do I need to text that to you as a reminder?”

“Need a hell of a lot more beer in me before my memory goes, Rogers,” Bucky shot back lazily. 

“Just checkin’,” Steve responded. “I’ll see you then.”


End file.
